


don't you lose me

by Anonymous



Series: forget-me-not verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alien Planet, Aphrodisiacs, Identity Porn, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Praise Kink, Resurrection, Shower Sex, ~ plot but mostly porn and feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25818595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tony thinks he must’ve been gone longer than he’d originally thought if he missed the memo on an entirely new Avenger.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: forget-me-not verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810165
Comments: 34
Kudos: 145
Collections: Anonymous





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aohatsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aohatsu/gifts).



> I was really desperately trying to finish this up for an exchange but it's clearly getting out of hand so I've decided to just post it for you apropos of nothing. I hope that's okay!
> 
> Sequel to ["don't you forget it."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24552214/chapters/59288635) I highly recommend reading it first since this fic picks up immediately after the ending there.

**Skin-to-skin.**   
**Even the memory of that sound, somehow.**

— Chase Bergrunn, _Nostalgia_

  
  


+

Tony thinks he must’ve been gone longer than he’d originally thought if he missed the memo on an entirely new Avenger. Somehow the last thirteen agents never mentioned that SHIELD’s got a spider-themed superhero swinging around in their back pocket. He’s got to hand it to Strange, recruiting the twenty-something vigilante to act as the rogue agent involved in the last ditch effort to break whatever curse holding him here is equal parts stupid and ingenius.

Ingenius in the potential healing factor given the kid’s spider biology (which, again, Tony can’t believe he _missed_ this somehow back when he was still living thirty minutes away from Queens). 

Stupid in the fact that the kid is _still a kid._

It’s not the first time Tony’s felt guilty for the resources SHIELD was throwing away trying to get him back, but it’s the first time he’s wondered why. He’s always assumed they wanted him back because of Iron Man and the latest weaponized nanotech discoveries he’d managed to make preparing for Thanos right before the end of everything. It was valuable information, and Tony can only think of maybe three people who could decipher his work and had the necessary clearance from E.D.I.T.H to do so. With Vision dead and Bruce definitely off-radar, Tony assumes Wakandan Intelligence still doesn’t look too favorably upon SHIELD given the years Steve spent with them, rehabilitating the Winter Soldier in the aftermath of that first war. No wonder Fury’s been desperate to get him back. 

Or so he’d thought. Now, staring at Peter’s masked face, Tony doubts himself. _Do you really need me again?_ He thinks, looking at the flawless, eerily familiar nanotech of the kid’s suit. Who needs Iron Man when they’ve got a younger, prettier, spider-themed version of him running around?

“So Fury’s got you working in my labs huh?” Tony says, walking around where Peter is standing in the red, blue and gold suit, fingers dragging against the smooth surface of the nanites outlining the sharp length of Peter’s arms. The kid shivers, and Tony wonders just how much of that is his “dialed up to eleven” senses or the fact that’s just Peter’s general reaction to him being around. “Not many people could make sense of the stuff I was working on before I kicked the bucket. What makes you different, spiderling?”

“Spider-man,” Peter corrects. Tony has to admit the in-theme golden waldoes were definitely a nice touch, and while Tony had pegged Peter as a fanboy from maybe the first five minutes he’d met him, seeing the kid intentionally wear his colors in a suit that was based off the Mark 85 is taking that original observation to a completely different level. Tony doesn’t know if he’s jealous or flattered or both. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’ve just always liked science?” Peter says, after a moment. 

It’s definitely not the answer Tony’s expecting from the young superhero in a tricked out suit. Not only is the kid unfairly attractive and possibly brilliant, he’s modest, too. “Where’d you study?”

“Oh. MIT.” Peter says, adding, “But I’m still — ”

“It’s okay, I can imagine the superheroing puts a little dent on how much time you can spend working on your dissertation, especially at MIT.” Tony says, with a smile. He’s never really considered himself the mentoring type, but it’s obvious the kid looks up to him, or at least suffers from a serious case of hero-worship. “They really make you work for it, don’t they? I’m not judging. Not all of us can graduate with a PhD by twenty two.” 

Okay, so maybe he’s still too much of a smartass to be the mentoring type.

“I know.” Peter says, and to Tony’s surprise, he grins before adding, “Not that I needed that vote of confidence, but thanks.” 

It’s like the kid keeps checking boxes Tony most certainly shouldn’t be thinking about. (Can keep up with his brain _and_ genius sass? Check)

“So let me get this straight. You’re smart enough to keep up my nanotech research and study at MIT, but you still thought, hey drinking an unknown liquid appearing in an obviously magical object is a great idea?” Tony says, crossing his arms, eyes meeting Peter’s as the nanites dissolve from his mask. “Didn’t your science instincts teach you anything, Pete?” 

“Is a chalice really an ‘obviously magical’ object?” Peter asks, sheepishly and Tony isn’t sure if he wants to roll his eyes or kiss him. 

“Okay perhaps obviously ‘religious’ would be a more accurate description. But it still stands that we’re on a magical planet with monogamy-crazed aliens. And you just willingly drank a bunch of their secret ritual love juice.” 

Peter blanches at that again, biting his lip nervously. Despite the intention behind the move, it still makes something carnal twist inside Tony’s stomach, a feeling Tony resolutely ignores, for now at least. While Tony had enjoyed what they’d done, he probably would’ve thought twice about using his mouth if he knew Peter had accidentally drugged himself. The alien aphrodisiac is probably still in the kid’s system, and since Tony so pleasantly sucked the kid’s brains out, it’s probably making its way through his system too. 

“Do you mean…” Peter says after a moment, quiet and uncertain, “You said _mating rituals_ . Are we like…” He swallows, before spitting out, “Doesthatmeanwe’remarried?”

“Probably,” Tony responds, without thinking and Peter’s eyes widen catastrophically. “Sorry kid, I don’t mean to scare you. This is kind of uncharted territory. I’m still trying to figure it out.” 

“I’m not...I’m not scared.” Peter says, but the waver in his voice says otherwise. “I mean, if we can get alien married, we can probably get alien divorced right?”

“Ouch, leaving me so soon honey?” Tony flirts, unable to bite back the tease. He could feel the symptoms starting — sweaty palms, increased heart rate, heightened sense of smell. He doesn’t know much more than Peter about this magic mating/marriage ritual but the first and last time Tony had drunk from the chalice he’d jerked off so much he was only half sure his dick wouldn’t fall off. He assumes there’s some rule against marrying or mating with yourself permanently because eventually the effects did fade, but by the time they did Tony had practically lost his grasp on time. 

“Sorry, I um I didn’t mean it like that,” Peter says, blushing again and Tony fights the ache to touch him. He could only hope that his hypothesis based on Peter’s previous orgasm time is true, that since there’s two of them, it would speed up the mating part of the ritual. 

“It’s okay, kid. Besides, I don’t think the legal paperwork is what we have to worry about here.” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Peter says, a little breathless, and Tony can tell he’s starting to feel it too with how the nanites retract until he’s standing there shirtless again. “Yeah um,” Peter stutters, and to Tony’s surprise, takes a staggering step back, “I can go.” 

Tony frowns, “Wait what?”

“I-I can go.” Peter repeats, “I won’t force myself on you, like last time.” 

“Kid, while I would’ve liked to know about the alien drugs running through your system before I went down on you, if it wasn’t obvious, I still very much wanted to go down on you.” Tony says, and then adds for good measure, “Usually I’m a gentleman about these things and if we ever make it back to New York, I promise I’ll take you out to dinner before commencing with the mind-blowing sex part of the night.” 

While it wasn’t the smoothest come-on, usually Tony’s quips are met with some sputtering and a nice blush when he’s going after someone like Peter. Not that Tony makes a habit of seducing young twink superheroes, but all this time alone on an alien planet and hearing about his ex-wife’s new husband might’ve made him a little more brash than usual. 

Instead of any positive indicators that Peter is too on board with this plan, a certain cloud of sadness fills the kid’s eyes, confusing Tony some more. He doesn’t know why the kid keeps looking at him like he’s seen a ghost. God, Tony hopes he doesn’t remind Peter of a terrible ex or professor or something. A similar look had passed across Peter’s face when Tony had laughed when Peter had confessed his plan and introduced himself as _Spiderman._ Which maybe wasn’t the nicest reaction, but come on, _Spider Man?_ Tony couldn’t have even dreamed that up himself. 

“Was that too forward? It was probably too forward. I’m sorry, but you know, this could be a lot worse. Like, I know we just met, but I’d like to think as accidental marriages go, we’re a pretty swell match. We’re both fairly attractive and are now in similar industries, and by industries I’m talking about the science _and_ superheroing which given my history, are usually problem areas for my dating life, but since you’re a MIT grad and Spiderman, you understand right?” Tony rambles, a little nervous, but mostly hoping he won’t have to continue for much longer because Peter agrees with him that the best they can do right now is fuck their way out of this. 

“So it won’t be a problem if I’m like _honey, sorry can’t make it to dinner tonight, I have to save the world from an alien invasion_ —” 

Tony can hardly remember where that sentence was going because Peter kisses him, fast and a little clumsy. Tony can hear the quiet sounds of the nanites retracting as Peter sucks on his lower lip, a move that feels distinctly practiced but works all the same. Tony has half a mind to kick off his pants and hastily pull his shirt off in between kisses before they topple onto the bed, Peter’s body firm and warm on top of him. 

Peter kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, and Tony can’t remember the last time making out felt so _good._ Peter tastes amazing, sweet like all his favorite things (coffee, strawberries, scotch...) and while Tony knows that’s probably a magical effect of the alien drug, he’s still enjoying it. 

Tony can’t stop touching Peter, his fingers running along the length of his spine and over the hard lines of his chest. Peter shivers into the touch everytime, making these small little gasps, almost like it’s hurting him that Tony can’t help but ask, “So exactly how sensitive are you?” 

“Pretty sensitive,” Peter responds, flushing on top of him. 

“Noted,” Tony says, cheeky as he leans up to kiss Peter again, letting his fingers scritch across the kid’s scalp before pulling sharply. 

Which, okay. The kid wasn’t kidding because Tony watches in amazement as Peter _comes_ just like that, untouched with Tony’s fingers tangled in his hair, moaning as his boxers grow impossibly damp. 

“ _Mr. Stark_ ,” Peter murmurs as Tony helps him peel off his sticky boxers and toss them to side, and it’s not the first time Tony’s heard it, but there’s something about Peter’s unfocused gaze that gives him pause, almost like the kid’s looking right through him and talking to someone else. 

“I’m right here, kid” Tony says, a little dazed himself at the image of the beautiful boy underneath him. 

Peter blinks,once, twice, before bridging the distance between them with another kiss, and while it might not be the exact affirmative response Tony was expecting, it’s still something. He can’t think too much about it, not when Peter’s biting his lower lip, his cock still hard against Tony’s stomach. 

“So about the mind blowing sex that I was talking about…” 

—

When they finally pause, hours and orgasms later, Tony thinks mind blowing isn’t enough of a word to describe sex with Peter Parker. Stupidly good, addicting, _fun,_ are some other descriptors Tony would like to include in his assessment. The kid’s beautiful, but he’s funny too and Tony’s surprised by how after the first three orgasms, Peter had taken to responding to Tony’s quips beyond just moaning wantonly. It’s like he’d learned how to talk through the sex haze of alien drug and intensified spider senses. And while Tony liked how Peter went all breathless calling him _Mr. Stark_ the first few times _,_ he had to admit he enjoyed hearing Peter sass _Tony, will you please stop talking and fuck me_ on his knees even more. 

“Are you sure we haven’t met?” Tony asks out loud, still blissed out on the remnants of the alien drug high. He isn’t sure why it’s this question which arrives out of his sex brain, but it’s more rhetorical than anything. 

“Are _you_ sure we haven’t met?” Peter parrots back, voice still a little hoarse from the time Tony spent face fucking him earlier that night. 

Tony lets out a small laugh, only half-noticing how Peter stiffens in his arms for a brief second. “Of course, I’m sure. I remember anyone who actually impresses me which means, if we’d met before, I’d definitely remember you.” 

“Oh,” Peter says, quiet but he sounds weirdly dejected. Maybe it did sound like a little bit of a backhanded compliment. 

“Sorry, my brain isn’t all the way —” Tony makes a whooshing sound, to illustrate his incapacity, “I just meant. It’s ridiculous it’s taken an alien planet for our paths to cross and I only wish I could’ve known you sooner, kid. ” 

Peter doesn’t say anything to that, and Tony doesn’t really think he needs him to, his high now wading into exhaustion. While his resurrection had fixed his arm with the shiny golden arm bracelet it hadn’t cured his insomnia, so Tony’s grateful his mind doesn’t fight as the sex fatigue pulls him under, his eyes drifting shut.

—

When Tony wakes up, it’s still mostly dark out — the sky a dark blue violet shadow behind Peter’s head. Tony doesn’t know how long he watches the kid sleep, the minutes slipping past him in the calm until finally the kid’s eyes blink awake. 

“Hi,” Tony murmurs, soft. 

“Hi,” Peter responds, his voice still a little sleep-rough. His eyes flit Tony’s face almost as if he can’t decide where to look — his dry lips, the hollow of his neck, the dark of his eyes. 

“See anything you like?” Tony teases, moving closer and letting a hand run through Peter’s hair, completely indulgent. The kid keens into the touch, leaning into Tony and letting their legs tangle further underneath the sheets. 

“Definitely,” Peter says, his eyes bright with desire. Tony was pretty certain he’d fucked the alien drug out of his system by now, but maybe because of Peter’s biology, the kid’s still feeling the effects. 

It doesn’t take long for Tony’s hypothesis to be confirmed, their mouths moving slow and sweet against each other. Tony could feel the kid’s cock heavy and insistent against his hip, just as hard as the first time they’d done this. 

“What do you want, kid?” 

“Wanna ride you,” Peter hums, kissing a spot underneath Tony’s jaw. 

Despite his tiredness, Tony’s cock twitches at the idea. Tony’s fingers trace the length of Peter’s spine before rubbing at the rim of his hole. Peter moans when Tony slips a finger inside. 

“Fuck, how are you still tight?” Tony wonders in amazement, working another finger inside Peter. He’s not as tight as the first time Tony had opened him up, but definitely not as loose as when Tony had finished fucking him earlier. 

“Super-healing, probably” Peter gasps as Tony lets the pad of his finger brush against the kid’s prostate.

“Well aren’t you just the dream?” Tony murmurs, impressed yet again. The kid’s just full of surprises and Tony wishes they were back home already so he could test Peter’s endurance in the lab. He doesn’t usually like mixing work with pleasure but from what he’s gathered Fury’s given the kid access anyway. Maybe when their drug wears down Tony could pick the kid’s brain a little on how that’s going for him. 

“ _Tony_ ,” Peter hiccups, hips moving back to fuck himself steadily on Tony’s fingers. “I’m ready, I’m ready, please —”

Tony leans up to kiss Peter deeply, before removing his fingers and wiping them on the bed. If there’s one thing Tony can’t complain about is the magically self-cleaning sheets.

“Alright then, sweetheart. Up you go.” Tony murmurs, leaning back with an arm swung lazy behind his head, his cock hard and more than ready to enjoy the show. 

Peter bites his lip but his eyes are steady as he adjusts himself on Tony’s lap, reaching behind him to line up Tony’s cock with his hole before sinking down with a breathless groan. 

“Oh fuck,” Peter moans, and he’s a vision like this, his hair mussed and the muscles in his thighs and stomach fluttering as he adjusts to the length. Tony groans as Peter bottoms out, his hands tightening around Peter’s hips. 

When Peter starts to move, the look on his face is almost reverent as he rides Tony, strong and sure in his movements. Tony’s drunk on the view, can’t do much with his fingers other than touch and try to burn the muscle memory of some of the best sex he’s ever had into his mind. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So gorgeous like this,” Tony groans as Peter grinds his ass down particularly well. The kid flushes, another drip of pre-come drooling from his cock.

Peter’s so hard it’s indecent and Tony hardly wastes a second before wrapping his hands around him, jacking Peter off in time to his thrusts. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, please,” Peter babbles, his back arching as he sinks deeper onto Tony’s cock. Tony doesn’t think before fucking his hips up into Peter’s ass, upsetting the kid’s rhythm in a way that has him close right up to the edge. 

“ _Mr. Stark_ ,” Peter gasps, and Tony feels that almost familiar thrill run up his spine again. 

“That’s right, come for me, kid—” Tony says, the rest of his sentence lost as Peter comes on command with a loud moan. 

Tony’s seen the kid lose it more than a few times before, but it still feels like a revelation. Peter’s the kind of beautiful that makes Tony’s brain stop, his entire mind focusing only on how Peter’s body bows, voice bare as he chants Tony, Tony, _Tony_. 

His own orgasm hits him one, two thrusts later, with a bruising kiss to Peter’s mouth. 

—

  
  


In the quiet of the afterglow, Peter asks: “Do you make a habit of accidentally marrying all the people trying to save you?” 

Tony grins at the boy half-dozing in his arms. “Just the pretty ones.” 

Peter blushes, and Tony thinks, stone cold sober now, how badly he still wants to keep him. 

“I’m joking, kid. Would you believe me if I told you’re the first?” 

Peter shuffles in Tony’s arms until he’s staring at Tony, his forearms propped up on Tony’s chest. “But I’m number thirteen.”

“I’ll be honest, even though I’m half convinced SHIELD is actually a part time model agency, no one stays this long.” Tony says, letting his fingers card through Peter’s hair. “Strange usually reopens the portal in two to three hours. It’s a really fast turn around.”

“Oh. Right.” Peter says, a little surprised, but leans into Tony’s touch. 

“Strange didn’t mention that either, huh?” Tony asks, with a twisted smile, the guilt inside him rising to the surface unbidden. 

“Tony —” 

“Look, I’m flattered that Strange went the rogue agent route, but you do know what you’ve risked right? Coming here?” Tony says, his hand freezing against the nape of Peter’s neck. “You could forget everything, Peter. Everything. Your friends, family, whole life.”

“I know the risks,” Peter says, firmly but he’s got that far away look in his eyes again, the one Tony for the life of him can’t decipher. “I’m glad I’m here,” but Tony only half believes him. 

“Are you? You’re clearly brilliant but I’m not exactly a ‘little guy’ or whatever Spiderman’s typical M.O is.” Tony pushes, unable to help himself now that they’re finally having this conversation. 

“I am! Mr. St — Tony. It’s okay, really.”

“Who’d you leave behind, Peter? What are your parents going to think when their own son can’t remember them? What about New York? Are you ready to say goodbye to the superhero gig?” 

Tony knows he’s cut deep but the words are out of his mouth before he can help it. For a moment, Peter doesn’t say anything, his face pale before pushing himself off Tony until he’s sitting at the edge of the bed. 

_Great job, genius!_ Tony thinks staring at the taut line of Peter’s back. Okay maybe he’d been more than a little cruel. 

It feels like a lifetime before Peter speaks, his voice just above a whisper. “I don’t expect you to understand but I am ready.” Peter pauses, and Tony’s only half sure he hasn’t made the kid cry. “I’m ready to say goodbye to Spiderman, to lose friends, family, my whole life for — this mission.”

He turns around, and Tony feels terrible as he notices Peter’s wet eyes. “I know you think you’re replaceable just because I’ve got a similar suit and access to your tech, but you’re not. We still remember you, the entire city — there’s vigils everywhere. Delmar’s even named a sandwich after you.”

“Delmar’s?” 

Peter almost looks embarrassed as he explains, “Sorry, it’s the deli down the street from May — my aunt’s apartment.” 

“Any good?”

“Best sandwiches in Queens, sir.” Peter says, and Tony hums before sitting up and reaching for Peter’s hand. 

“Well you’ll have to take me when we get back.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Peter says, something uncertain in his expression. 

“It’s a date. Even though I’m an asshole and you definitely deserve better.” Tony replies, pressing a kiss to the inside of Peter’s palm. He shouldn’t have questioned Peter’s honesty, clearly the kid genuinely cares and has considered the options. It’s strange how young he is and yet Tony can’t remember the last time he’d met someone with comparable life experience to his own who wasn’t Rhodey or Bruce. “ I’m sorry for bringing that stuff about the mission — I’ve just got a terrible guilt complex.” 

“Mr. Stark, _Tony_ , I don’t think — I appreciate your apology, but you really don’t have to um, promise that. I mean, Pepper—”

“—is my ex-wife but I’m sure we’ll adjust to the coparenting swimmingly.” Tony responds, leaning into Peter’s space. He rubs his thumb over the kid’s knuckle, wishing he could soothe that owlish look in his eye. “Look, I know this isn’t exactly a coffee-shop meet cute, but I mean it. I want to see you again, preferably somewhere with a tasting menu and extensive hard liquor collection but we can do sandwiches first. I’m learning to compromise.”

“You don’t even know me!” Peter sputters out weakly, but his eyes keep dropping to Tony’s lips which is a good sign as any. 

“But I _want_ to. I want to know what gets you out of bed every morning, about growing up in Queens, what kind of birthday cake you like, your favorite color.” Tony knows it’s a little cheesy, but there’s something about the kid that tugs straight at his heart strings. “I know this is ridiculous and in a way we’re doing this all backwards, but I like you, Peter. And if we make it back to New York, that feeling isn’t just going to go away.” 

For a moment, Peter doesn’t say anything and Tony’s mentally recalculating every sentence that he’s spewed in the last thirty seconds for any grave, punishable errors because fuck, the kid really does deserve better — 

“My favorite color is red,” Peter says, before crawling back into bed but his face is unreadable again, Tony isn’t sure if he’s about to cry from sadness or joy. 

“Of course it is,” Tony says, thinks _because you’re perfect_ and while he wants to pry, he doesn’t want to push it — again. Besides, they’ll have plenty of time to talk about it when they get back.

Tony doesn’t know when the hopeful side of him overtook his usual cynicism, but something about Peter makes him desperately believe he’s Tony’s golden ticket out of here. 

“How long before sunrise?” Peter asks, almost reading his mind. 

“We’ve still got a few hours,” Tony says, running a tentative hand through Peter’s hair. The kid leans into the touch, and Tony takes that as enough invitation to pull the kid into his arms. “Try to get some sleep, okay?” 

Peter hums quietly and Tony waits until the kid’s breath events out before closing his eyes and deciding to follow his own advice. 


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could never forget you,” Peter responds firmly, but something about the slight quiver of his lip makes Tony think he’s got more to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for aohatsu, because you deserve all the nice things and I hope you're feeling better!

**You’re awake, then you are standing.  
Then the last thing that you dreamed will unfold  
its field of memory.**

— Yanyi, _The Year of Blue Water_

+

  
  


The next time Tony wakes up, the suns are high in the sky. Tony blinks at the bright light filtering into the room, they must’ve slept off the alien drug pretty hard. He’s alone in bed, but he can hear the water running — the kid’s beaten him to the shower. There were a lot of strange things about this planet but some things were so much like Earth, Tony could almost forget he’d been reborn billions of light years away from home. 

For example, while the bathroom is by no means as extravagant as the one he’d had back home, it’s still got the same parts. Looking at the foggy outline of Peter’s body through the glass, Tony feels almost ordinary — as if this could be a number of mornings he’d lived before. 

Tony doesn’t hesitate before pulling the glass door open and slipping into the steaming shower behind Peter, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a soft kiss to the side of the kid’s neck.

“Morning,” Tony murmurs and Peter tenses before relaxing into Tony’s touch, stepping back so the water isn’t pouring directly onto his face. 

“Um hi,” Peter says as his eyes blink open, his curls slicked back with water. He’s gorgeous like this, and when Tony cups his jaw, he falls into the kiss easily. 

The kid’s still enthusiastic but a little more careful than before, probably because the alien drug had finally kicked its way out of his system. Tony hums into the kiss as it goes from soft, sweet to dirty, his cock twitching against Peter’s ass. 

“You’re beautiful,” Tony whispers in between kisses and Peter moans, blushing full body at the compliment. Tony can see the kid’s hard cock, bobbing indecently against his stomach. 

“Want me to do something about that, kid?” Tony asks, grinning against Peter’s mouth. 

“Yes please.” Peter responds quickly, twisting in his arms until they’re standing underneath the stream of water, chest to chest. Tony doesn’t waste a second before slipping his hand between the both of them, grabbing the both of their cocks together before fucking his hips up into the slippery circle. 

“ _W-Woah_ ,” Peter stutters, in awe, eyes widening as he looks in between them where Tony continues to jack both of them off, water falling all around them. 

Maybe it’s the intoxicating, swirling heat of the shower and the way their bodies are now attuned to each other after what could only be described as a sex marathon, but it doesn’t last long.

“ _Tony_ ,” Peter moans, dazed as he comes first with Tony’s fingers in his wet curls. Tony swallows the sound with a kiss, his own orgasm following not soon after. 

For a moment, they just stand there, bodies slick with water, holding each other and Tony feels so blissfully ordinary, he could stay here forever, underneath the showerhead with his lips against the corner of Peter’s mouth. 

—

They make it out of the shower eventually, because Tony’s resurrected still very human body is still prone to pruning if left too long under heated water. 

“Huh,” Peter says, mid-toweling off his hair, sniffing his armpit. “Weird. I smell exactly like the body wash I use back at home. Even though —” 

“— we didn’t use any soap. I know, it’s the same for me, kid. Before you ask, my best guess is that the water’s enchanted to be user-specific.” 

“That’s so cool,” Peter says, before going back to toweling his hair. Tony smiles before walking out the bathroom and opening the dresser. It takes a second but soon he can feel the outline of a dark pair of boxers and joggers. As he pulls them on, he thinks about what he wants to wear and decides to settle on his standard white shirt. 

He’s just slipping it over his head when Peter walks in, towel precariously wrapped around his waist as he frowns at the empty floor near the bed. “Um, I swear my clothes were here last night.” 

“Sorry kid, rookie mistake. If you want to keep something on this planet you better keep it on your person, otherwise its bound to literally disappear.” 

“Magic?” Peter asks, and Tony nods as the kid sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

“Um, anyway I can borrow a shirt?” Peter blushes, “And maybe some pants too?” 

“Sure thing,” Tony says, opening his dresser again, “Just give it a second.” He closes his eyes and imagines one of his go-to shirts from his wardrobe back home. He reaches his hand into the dresser and sure enough, there’s the soft worn feel of his Black Sabbath shirt. He’d like to think he’d know it anywhere, even on an alien planet billions of light years from Earth. 

“Here, catch” Tony says, throwing the shirt towards Peter. The kid grabs the shirt, only to stiffen a moment later. 

“Black Sabbath not your thing?” Tony asks, feeling a little guilty. He’d picked the shirt mostly because it’s the only personal item of clothing he’s able to conjure up in his time here and some part of him wants to see Peter in something that’s actually _his_ , not just the basic regulation clothes that Tony can access as a prisoner to whoever runs this planet. He’s tried to expand his ability but it’s difficult as a non-native to establish the connection with his memory and the natural magic of the planet. 

“Oh. Sorry, I was just surprised.” Peter says, snapping out of wherever his mind had gone. “It um feels worn.” 

“Because it is.” Tony explains. “Not literally of course, but I’ve got plenty of memories of wearing it up here.” Tony taps his forehead, as Peter’s eyes widen as he pulls on the shirt. 

“Woah, so you literally imagined the shirt from your memory and it just...appeared?” 

“Pretty much,” Tony says with a nod before handing Peter a pair of boxers and joggers practically identical to his own. “It’s not as easy as it looks though.” 

“Can I try?” Peter asks, as he pulls on the rest of his clothing. Tony thinks he could get used to this, Peter soft, hair curling around his ears and in his Tony’s clothes. 

“Sure,” Tony says with a shrug. None of the other agents who’d tried rescuing him had stuck along long enough to try so he hadn’t thought of bringing it up with them. 

Peter hops on the bed, his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath before his brow furrows in what must be his “thinking” face. Tony stifles a chuckle because the kid looks more adorable than serious. 

Tony lies down next to Peter, propping his head up on his arm as he waits what feels like an entirely too long minute before placing a hand on Peter’s knee. “Sorry kid, no luck.” 

“Aww, really?” Peter sighs before flopping down on the bed and curling into Tony’s side. 

“It’s okay, kid.” Tony says, his fingers tracing absent patterns on Peter’s bicep. “My guess is that there must be some sort of magical firewall to make sure foriegn species like us don’t access this magic channel so easily.” 

“But you can,” Peter says, tapping the golden cuff on Tony’s right bicep. “Do you think you can access it easier because of this?” 

“Maybe.” Tony says, letting his fingers travel up Peter’s arm until they could tangle in his still damp curls, “I haven’t really thought about it much.” 

“Have you always worn it?” 

Tony nods, “I don’t know how I was resurrected, but I know when I woke up I was alone in this room completely naked except for this golden bracelet on my arm.” 

Peter’s fingers trace the metal, its gaudy, regal looking exterior. “Have you tried taking it off?” 

“Uh... No, actually.” Tony frowns, “I don’t know how to explain it but I’ve just got this feeling that I shouldn’t. Maybe if we make it back I’ll ask Strange to take a look at it and tell me what he thinks.” 

“Not if, _when_.” Peter says, quietly. 

“Huh?”

“You said _if_ we make it back.” Peter says, a little louder. “We’re going to make it back, Mr. St— Tony.” 

_You don’t know that, kid_ says the voice inside his head, but he smothers it down. Instead, Tony lets his lips brush against Peter’s forehead, “You’re right. _When_ we get back, Peter.” 

“We’ll get sandwiches.” Peter says, and Tony hates that _this_ is what the kid sounds unsure about. Not walking through the magic brain boggling portal, but the idea that when they make it back, Tony could still want him around. 

“So many sandwiches.” Tony says, wrapping his arms tighter around Peter. “Hell, if Delmar’s impresses me enough they can cater part of the wedding.” 

“ _Wedding?_ ” Peter squeaks, tilting his head up to stare at Tony with wide eyes. Tony rolls them over, so he’s hovering over Peter, their legs tangled together. Somehow the kid’s already half hard given the slight bulge in his sweatpants and Tony doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of just how responsive Peter is to everything they do. 

“We are technically alien married, sweetheart.” Tony says with a grin and Peter blushes at the endearment. “I’ll probably want to make it Earth official too if you decide to stay around.” 

Tony’s never considered himself the soulmate type but speaking entirely based on the pheromones of all the sexual bonding that’s happened in the last twenty four hours something about Peter feels like it’s going to stick. Some innate thing about the kid intrigues him — it’s clear he’s got a past and boy does Tony understand that completely. He just hopes it won’t deter Peter from being part of his future. 

“You’re… ridiculous.” Peter says, and Tony will take that as an improvement to Peter’s pretty constant disbelief. 

“I’ll make up for it, I promise,” Tony says before leaning down to kiss Peter’s surprised smile. 

—

They spend a good portion of the afternoon curled into each other, kissing, talking, touching, kissing again. When Peter gets hungry, Tony pulls some apples and slightly disfigured toast out of thin air (Tony’s memory with toast is hardly perfect). The kid’s unsurprisingly easy to talk to, and Tony learns things about the Peter he hadn’t expected like the fact he actually doesn’t have parents to come back home to, just an aunt and that like Tony, he’s watched people die too.

“So you want to look out for the little guy, you want to do your part,” Tony says studying the nanite web shooters since Peter had let him examine his watch. “Make the world a better place, all that right?” 

“Um. Yeah.” 

Tony shoots another web at the ceiling from where he’s lying on the bed, pulling at the thread. It’s surprisingly strong and even though Peter had shown him a swinging demonstration earlier, it’s another thing to feel it himself. 

“You know what I think is really cool? This webbing.” Tony says, “ I can already tell the tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured it?” 

“I did.” Peter says, but he’s got that strange look on his face again, like he’s disappeared behind some curtain 

“Kid, that’s amazing,” Tony frowns, “but you’re looking at me like I’ve grown another head. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s okay it’s just you remind — this conversation. I’ve had it before.” Peter stutters, “With a mentor. Sorry I don’t know why I brought it up. It’s stupid!” Peter says with a nervous laugh. 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “You know, I never pegged Fury as the caring type but maybe time changes us all. ”

Peter blinks before laughing again, a tad bit too deliriously maybe, but still laughter. Tony will take it. 

He deactivates the nanite web shooters and tosses the watch back to Peter. “So how long do we have left?” 

“It sounds so negative when you put it like that, Tony” Peter says, but he looks at the watch. “Maybe an hour or two?” 

Tony looks out the balcony. Sure enough, the suns would start to dip soon. He lets an arm slide around Peter, pulling the kid closer to him. “Anything you want to do before you forget me and never see me again? ” 

“I could never forget you,” Peter responds firmly, but something about the slight quiver of his lip makes Tony think he’s got more to say. 

“Kid —” Tony starts, but Peter’s the one who leans to kiss him this time, mouth hot and desperate. 

Tony kisses back on instinct, whatever question he’d meant to ask lost in the dizzy taste of Peter’s tongue. 

—

They’re both mostly dressed when Peter senses the portal about the open thanks to his spider sixth sense. It’s probably the only reason that Tony allowed Peter to blow him in the first place, because that’s not exactly an image he wants to share with Strange and whoever else might be on the other side. He wouldn’t past it for the wizard to show up earlier than expected. 

As it happens, Peter senses Strange’s portal right on time, in between lazy post-orgasm kisses, Tony’s hand rucking up Peter’s shirt just because he could. 

“ _Tony,_ ” Peter giggles, before he freezes, and Tony feels the goosebumps prickling over the kid’s skin. Peter sits up, staring at something over Tony’s head near the balcony. 

“Kid?” Tony asks, sitting up with him. 

“Um, the portal’s opening?” Peter says gesturing vaguely near the balcony, before blushing. “Oh right, you can’t see it.” 

“Still can’t,” Tony says with a shrug and he doesn’t know why with Peter he thought things might be different — and ah, it’s funny how his old cynicism shows up right on time. 

“If it makes you feel better you’re not missing much other than a pink sparkly circle and weird amount of smoke, ” Peter says, biting his lip and looking apologetic even though it’s not his fault Tony died saving the world only to be reborn cursed to be trapped on an alien planet billions of light years away from Earth. “Anyway, um, are you ready to go?” 

Peter waits a beat, before sticking out his hand and it’s so cheesy that Tony almost forgets the kid’s got a ninety eight percent chance of getting his brain fried because of him. 

“Pete,” Tony begins, hesitant, but Peter shakes his head, “I’m sure, Tony. Just...take my hand. Please.” 

Tony could refuse, he almost does, but it’s Peter’s eyes — the red-rim of tears threatening to spill that gives him pause. The look Peter gives him is raw, layered, as if he’s looking straight through Tony at something deeper inside him — something Tony has no idea about. 

“Okay,” Tony says, getting to his feet because he wants to _know,_ whatever Peter sees in him, he wants a chance to discover it — no matter how bleak their odds. 

He takes Peter’s hand and the kid breathes, a deep exhale, and Tony could kiss him because it feels like a moment. It probably is, but Tony thinks he can wait till they make it to the other side. 

Because they will. They have to. Tony isn’t walking through the portal with just anyone, he’s walking through with Peter Parker, who throws himself off skyscrapers in his freetime and didn’t think twice about risking his life for a billionaire he barely knew. Tony can tell Peter is someone special, and he thinks the universe can too. 

“You got everything?” Peter asks, as they take a step closer to what must be the portal based on how Peter sticks a testing hand out. 

“All packed, honey,” Tony jokes, and Peter squeezes his hand. It’s a small thing, but Tony feels choked up thinking it might be the last hand he might hold. “No matter what happens Peter, thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Mr — Tony.” Peter fumbles, but gives Tony a small smile. “This is going to work.” 

“Together?” Tony asks, because he doesn’t know what else to say, his eyes stuck on this beautiful boy in front of him, his heart hammering, hoping, praying that he’ll get to see him another day. 

“Together.” Peter says, his bottom lip quivers as Tony presses a soft kiss to the back of his hand. 

And then, they walk. 

—

It’s a little anticlimactic honestly. Tony had already braced himself for the usual feeling of hitting a soft wall, the inevitable invisible force field, or some sort of electric shock if he _did_ make it through but instead, it hadn’t felt much more than a feather brush down his spine.

One second he’s on the alien planet, and the next he’s staring at Fury’s surprised scowl in the Sanctum. 

“Well, damn.” Fury says, and if Tony didn’t know better, he’d say the director of SHIELD is a little speechless. Across the room, Doctor Strange drops his arms with a relieved sigh. 

Not that Tony’s looking at them for long, not when Peter’s still holding his hand, his eyes bright with tears, warm and alive. “Mr. Stark — _Tony_ , we did it. I’m okay. I remember —” Peter breathes, and Tony lets out a sigh of relief, because it _did_ work. Peter’s safe. “Oh my god, it worked. You’re here. Like, actually — ” 

Tony doesn’t let the kid finish, just bridges the short distance between them and kisses him with the whirlwind of feelings he can’t wait to tell Peter later: _Thank you, you gave me my life back, please stay forever._

(Okay, so maybe it’s a little climatic. )

Peter melts into the kiss easily, letting out a soft gasp when Tony winds his fingers through his hair and tugs him closer. Tony grins into the kiss, already picturing how gorgeous the kid’s going to look spread out on his egyptian cotton sheets, already imagining taking him apart, slowly, tenderly, with his mouth. Peter had told him that they’d kept his quarters ready for him back at the Tower, just in case, and Tony’s never been grateful that he doesn’t have to figure out _that_ part of being suddenly not-dead anymore. If they’ve given him a bed, he’s planning on making full use of it, hopefully with Peter because after six months of solitude, he doesn’t want to go back to sleeping alone. Not yet, anyway, not when everything feels so surreal, not when Peter’s here, beautiful, amazing, and so fucking _responsive_ —

“ _Excuse me_.” Fury says with a cough, that sounds more angry than awkward. 

Tony blinks, as Peter breaks the kiss, stumbling back immediately. Back on Earth means back to business, but sue him for getting a little lost in the moment. “Sorry, Fury. Strange. Good to see the both of you!” He nods towards the men, taking the step to wrap his arm around Peter’s waist only to have the kid freeze. 

“Everything okay, kid?” Tony asks, doing his best to seem comforting because the look of panic in his eyes is a little more wild than Tony would expect over what was just a little kiss. 

(Maybe more than a _little_ kiss, given how Tony’s grateful for his loose alien planet sweatpants. Not that he’s the type to pop a boner with Nick Fury in the room, but still. It’s not his fault Peter pushes all his buttons, because he’s perfect and Tony wants to keep him, preferably forever. )

But before Peter can respond, Fury crosses his arms, staring at the pair of them. “Anybody wanna tell me what the _hell_ is going on?” 

Now, Tony does roll his eyes. “Aw come on, Fury. Don’t give the kid a hard time, if there’s anyone to blame for our magical union it’s Strange.” Tony grins, “Honestly, falling in love with a hot twenty something superhero wasn’t on my resurrection bucket list, but I really appreciate it, Doctor.” 

“You don’t love me.” Peter bites out, his voice trembling. 

“Oops, too soon? Sorry, I just meant that I _could_ , I want to, I know we just met —” 

Doctor Strange and Fury’s expressions shift into shock just as Peter pushes Tony away, forceful in a way that feels more like a gentle punch than a nudge. 

“Kid?” Tony asks, frowning as Peter ignores him. Just turns around and walks towards Strange, who was still leaning against a desk on the other side of the room. 

“He doesn’t remember. I’m sorry, I couldn’t — he doesn’t.” Peter stutters out and it takes a second for Tony to realize the kid’s shaking because he’s _crying_. 

“It’s okay, Peter. We had no way of knowing.” Strange says, and Tony’s surprised at how tender the other man sounds as he places a hand on the kid’s shoulder, leading him out the room. 

Tony stands there, speechless, because it doesn’t make sense. He _remembers_ — Thanos, DUM-E, his lab, his suits, his daughter. All the important stuff, he knows. 

“Stark, Peter Parker isn’t twenty something. “Fury says, his voice weary, “He’s barely nineteen.” 

_Nineteen_? Tony’s jaw drops. 

“Okay. Wow. That’s — He didn’t tell me.” Tony stammers, thinking back to their first conversation. “So when he said he was attending MIT —”

“He’s a Sophomore. Undergrad.” Fury says, but lets out a heavy sigh. “Look, Stark this isn’t even about that. I don’t _like_ it but legally, the kid can make his own choices. This isn’t the main problem here. ”

Tony stares at Fury, rethinking the last thing he heard Peter say — _He doesn’t remember. I’m sorry, I couldn’t. He doesn't_ — but Tony would be able to tell if he’s missing something, right? Even on his worst drug-fueled, liver-killing black outs, the next morning he could _feel_ the absence of time, the fuzziness of the night before. He _remembers_ not-remembering, missing a memory of a face or the three new numbers in his phone. 

Unless, he thinks, it isn’t _just_ a memory. 

Not a singular event, but an entire collection of them. All revolving around one topic. 

“It’s the fact that you thought he was twenty-something to begin with.” Fury says, shaking his head. 

Or in this case, one _person._

“You’re lying,” Tony says, his throat suddenly dry.

“Believe me, I wish I was.” Fury deadpans as he types into his phone before handing it to him. “If you don’t trust me, here, ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’ve got her patched in via text.” 

His fingers shake but Tony manages to type _Peter Parker?_ into the message. 

It hardly takes a second before Tony sees him, or rather _them_ — Peter and him in the lab tinkering respectively, in the kitchen sharing poptarts, selfies with DUM-E photobombing, and the most damning of all, Iron Man and Spider-man suited up and in battle. 

No wonder he was drawn to the suit, he _designed_ it. 

“Fuck,” Tony gasps, the phone falling from his palms as his vision blurs, the beginning of a panic attack. 

“Tony,” Fury’s voice sounded blurry and far away, like a whisper in his mind. “Stark, breathe. It’s going to be okay, it’s fine, just --” 

In the fog of his anxiety, Tony closes his eyes, sinking to his knees as he hears Peter’s voice, _I’m sorry I couldn’t tell him._

_He doesn’t remember me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow friends, thank you for all the comments and kudos. I really appreciate the support :D It means so much to know you all are enjoying this story since it's all I've been thinking about this past summer. 
> 
> As always, I adore hearing what you all think. One more chapter to go in this part!

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this story is already written, but life is busy so I apologize for some delay. As always, I appreciate any & all feedback!


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